


These Tears

by xanderdaqueer



Series: Drarry Drarry Quite Contrary [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th Year Hogwarts, Caring Harry, Crying Draco Malfoy, Drabble, Draco Malfoy misses Narcissa, Draco uses anger to hide his problems, Harry Potter realizing things he never realized before, Harry's so sweet, It's a bad coping mechanism, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Short and kinda stupid, angsty, vulnerable draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-03 23:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17293436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xanderdaqueer/pseuds/xanderdaqueer
Summary: Harry is suspicious of Malfoy, again. He simply doesn't trust him, even though Voldemort is dead and gone. However, when he discovers what Malfoy is truly struggling with, he realizes that even Malfoy is human.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> wowowowowow basically wanted to try writing not plotless porn, what a concept amirite

   It was approximately 12:45 PM at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At such a time, one would assume that most students would be asleep, resting before another eventful magical day. But someone wasn’t asleep. Harry Potter lay in bed, maroon sheets over his legs. His glasses lay on the nearby nightstand. In one hand was his wand, lit by a “lumos!” that had been quietly whispered in the dead of the night. In the other hand was the Marauder’s Map.  
Harry squinted as he shone the light from his wand down on the paper, tracing the hallways of the school and flipping through the floors. A smirk lit up his face when he saw it. Draco Malfoy, walking the hallways of the dungeons. He knew that Malfoy was up to something. His friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger might call him obsessed, especially since the war was over, but Harry knew that he was onto something. Malfoy couldn’t be trusted.

        As he watched Malfoy's tiny ink footsteps turn a corner, he leaned over his bedside to rummage around in his chest. Finding what he needed, he quietly sat up and, putting his trusty invisibility cloak over his body, went off on his nightly adventure.

 

        Draco Malfoy was unable to sleep. Plagued by dark thoughts, his mind was swirling. He'd taken to roaming the halls near his common room when he couldn't sleep. Sometimes walking was simply enough to help clear his mind enough to let him sleep. He often struggled with thoughts of the past, and in his nightmares were terrifying visions of the Dark Lord. He didn't want to talk to anyone about these things. He was afraid that his friends would perceive him as weak. Yes, yes, he knew that was foolish, especially since everyone had been hit hard by the war and some of his friends had even voiced that they'd been struggling with mental issues. However, he was still adamant about dealing with his issues on his own. What would his father say if he found out his son was struggling with PTSD?

        Ah, his father. In Azkaban again, he didn't have much to worry about he supposed. The Malfoy reputation and all that. However, he found it quite difficult to stray from his family's more traditional Pureblood values, even with his mother's fierce support of his well-being. 

        Turning a corner, Malfoy frowned to himself, his blueish gray eyes downcast. Choosing to be away from his mother to come back to Hogwarts for an 8th year had been difficult. He knew that while she was actually rather pleased to be rid of Lucius, she still had a void in her life. Despite how strongly she protested, she was lonely. He knew how much his mother loved him, and it hurt to be so far away. In his dreams sometimes, his mother was killed. He'd wake up panting, sweating and he always had to send an owl to her, had to write a letter to just make sure that she was truly alright. 

        Draco felt weak, was the truth. He felt tired. He barely slept anymore, and he was lonely. He didn't know what to do with his life anymore. Thinking of the future, he knew he wanted to do something with potions but... learning from Professor Slughorn was different than with Snape. Snape had at least cared about him. Sure, he had been a right arse to the Gryffindor's but... when Lucius hadn't been there supporting Draco, Snape had validated him in some way or another. 

        He stopped abruptly, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. He wanted to cry. Actually, he probably needed a good cry. But his chest was filled such an emptiness that the tears wouldn't come. His face twisting into that of anguish, he slid down a wall, sitting with his head in his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

    Harry carefully traipsed down the last set of stairs and turned the corner, intently watching his map. Malfoy had stopped moving. Furrowing his brows, he frowned and looked up where he knew Malfoy would be. He was there, but he was sitting. Taking another step forward, it appeared that Malfoy was... crying...? No, no... Harry noted that his shoulders were quite still. He wasn't crying. He took another step closer, suspicious, and promptly cursed under his breath as he stepped on the hem of his cloak, tripping slightly. 

        Draco's head shot up at the disturbance of the silence, standing quite quickly and stabilizing himself on the wall.

        "Who... who's there...?"

        Harry had frozen in a panic, eyes wide as he remained silent. 

        "Blaise...?"

        Harry still remained silent. His heart was beating fast. He didn't know what to do. Taking steps backwards as Malfoy walked forwards, he tripped yet again, this time on his trainers, and fell backwards, lacking the necessary balance to stay on foot. As he fell, his cloak shifted, revealing who he was. 

        Draco stopped dead, staring at Harry with eyes wide with shock. "Potter?"

        Harry stared back, blinking and at a loss for words.

        Draco's face twisted into one of anger, masking the shock and vulnerability that had been there for a split second. "What, come to spy on the Slytherins?"

        "Er, no, I uh.... sleepwalking..."

        "Ha!" Malfoy scoffed. Harry noticed the dark circles under his eyes. "Sleepwalking, Potter? Really? How witty of you. Bet you haven't used that one before."

        Harry had, actually. Back in his third year with a run-in with Snape. This was oddly reminiscent of that encounter, actually. He remained silent, and Malfoy rolled his eyes.

        "Fine then, Potter. I'm going back to my common room if you're just going to stare at me dumbly."

        He spun around, walking away.

        "W... Wait!"

        Malfoy stopped. 

        "What were you doing down here?"

        Malfoy turned, a sneer on his face. "My common room is down here, Potter."

        "Well you weren't in it," Harry commented.

        "Well, you aren't in your common room either now are you, Potter?" retorted Malfoy with a snort.

        "You were just sitting there."

        "That's none of your business."

        "But you looked like-"

        "Potter," Malfoy interrupted, clearly exasperated as he held up a hand. "I'm going back to bed."

        But as he turned, Potter said something else. 

        "Back to bed? You look like you haven't slept." His tone was suspicious.

        Draco turned back yet another time, raising a lip in distaste as he gazed at Harry calculatingly. He was silent for a moment. "If you really must know, Potter, I couldn't sleep." Harry's gaze narrowed. "And before you come at me all accusingly, I'm not up to something. Don't try and pull your fucking savior shit on me. The Dark Lord's dead and gone, why the fuck would I be up to anything?"

        Harry blinked stupidly. "I never said anything like that..." he said, but his tone was guilty. 

        "You didn't have to. Your tone gave it all away." Draco drawled, running a hand through his hair. He could have walked away right at that moment. Thinking back, he wondered why he didn't. Instead, they stood at a standstill as Harry shuffled his feet guiltily. 

        "Why couldn't you sleep?" he finally asked. 

        It was Draco's turn to narrow his eyes. "I don't need a therapist, Potter, but thank you."

        "It's a genuine question," Harry defended, noting how defensive Malfoy had gotten. "I couldn't really sleep either, honestly."

        "Hm, yeah, wonder why. Probably because you're too busy stalking me. Honestly, you're like a 1st year girl."

        Ouch, okay. So Draco was prickly. Sure, he haaaaad been kind of stalking Malfoy, but that wasn't his fault! It was Malfoy's for being so damn untrustworthy!

        "I'm going back to my common room now, Potter," Draco said tiredly with a frown. 

        Harry didn't stop him this time. 


	3. Chapter 3

Two days later, Malfoy was in the bathroom, tears streaming down his face. They'd finally come, the tears. He was sobbing quietly, breathing quickly as he curled in on himself in the stall. 

        Harry didn't expect to hear someone crying as he'd entered the boys bathroom. As the door closed behind him, the crying abruptly stopped. "Hello...?" he said into the air. "Are you okay?"

        There was no response. 

        "Are you okay?" Still none. "Hello...?"

        "Leave me alone," came the quiet response from the closed stall. He tried to decipher the voice, but it was too hard...

        "I want to help you."

        "No, you don't."

        "Yes I do! Please come out," Harry pleaded, truly wanting to help. There was silence. "If you don't come out, I'll come in..." He pressed lightly on the door, hoping to persuade whoever was in there to come out. Talking about problems was always better than bottling them up, in Hermione's wise opinion. 

        The door flew open, and Harry was met with Malfoy's tear-streaked, scowling face. 

        "Happy, Potter?" he hiccuped, looking utterly a mess. "Going to gloat now? Did you hear, Granger? Malfoy was in the bathroom crying!" He viciously mocked Harry, who was frowning in concern. 

        "Are you okay?" he asked.

        Draco glared at him. "Do I look bloody okay, Potter?"

        "No." 

        "Well there you fucking have it, then. Leave me alone."

        "But do you want to be alone?"

        Draco didn't respond, his eyes narrowed and his body shaking. 

        "Let me help you, Draco."

        Malfoy suddenly had a vivid flashback to his 6th year, on the Astronomy Tower. His wand was pointed at Albus Dumbledore, who he'd disarmed. His face was full of conflict. He was shaking. "Draco, you are no assassin. Please, let me help you." 

        His face twisting into sadness, Malfoy let out a choked sob as he remembered the past. Before he knew it, Harry was in the stall with him, an arm on his shoulder. 

        "Talk to me."

        "With you, Potter? Have you gone mad?" Draco scoffed tearfully, distraught violently transforming into anger: a coping mechanism.

        "Who else do you have to go to?"

        Draco took shuddering breaths, not responding. 

        "It's stupid," he muttered. "It's stupid, and I don't want to talk to you about it. I can't believe I'm in this situation," Draco sniffled, turning away from Harry. 

        "It's not stupid."

        "Well you don't fucking know what it is, do you?"

        "No, but I'm sure it's not stupid."

        Malfoy took a few more shuddering breaths, swallowing heavily. "You're a stupid, self-righteous prick who is too nice for his own good," he said.

        "That's not an answer," Harry stated.

        "I miss my mother, I can't stop thinking about the past, and I'm terrified for the future." The words tumbled out before Malfoy could stop them.

        Harry paused, thinking. 

        "Told you it was stupid," Malfoy said miserably. "Why am I doing this..."

        "It's not stupid," Harry said slowly. "I... I think everyone's been struggling with the past. You.. you do mean the war, right?"

        Malfoy nodded sharply, avoiding Harry's gaze. 

        "I think about it every day. It always haunts me. Every time I see George, I remember that Fred didn't make it. Every time I cast a patronus I remember Lupin. Hell, Malfoy, I even miss Creevy going after me with his damn camera. The point is, the past affects our present, which will ultimately affect our future. But we can't let it affect us so much that it brings our daily life to a slow or stops us from getting enough sleep."

        Malfoy nodded again, slowly this time. "Th... thank you."

        Harry himself nodded, patting Draco's shoulder somewhat awkwardly. It was quite odd to see this vulnerable, new side... it certainly explained why Malfoy was acting stranger than usual. He hadn't realized that Malfoy might be struggling with his own mental problems.

        He watched as Malfoy's mouth twitched, as though he had more to say, then fell still again. He hadn't realized what nice lips Malfoy had. 

        "I'm.... You... You should go to class, Harry," Malfoy said finally. The name "Harry" sounded odd coming from his mouth. Odd, but nice. Friendly, even. 

        "Are you okay?"

        Malfoy looked away. It was clear that he hated being this vulnerable in front of anyone, let alone Harry. "Better than before." He bit his lip. "Thank you."

        It was clear that Malfoy wanted Harry to leave, so that was what Harry did. 

        But Harry was left with so many new thoughts swirling in  his head that, when he did get to Charms class, he could barely focus on any subject matter at all. 

        How odd it was to realize that even someone who he'd only ever considered his enemy had feelings too, had a family, had emotions. It certainly brought a lot of other feelings up that he'd only ever fleetingly thought of. 


End file.
